The Guild had lodged Siodi-daja in a little aosi, that was to say a property without heirs, which happened now and again, a status always met by a frenzy of offers to buy. In this case, the Guild had used its influence, and the aiji’s funds, and had bought the property after the decease of the last of the family, one understood, some seventy-eight years ago.
A residence and an office this close to the Bujavid, when there were important lords like Geigi who did not have a residency inside the Bujavid—was amazing; and if ever the Guild released the property in which they had installed Siodi-daja, there would be another furious bidding war.
It somewhat answered the question what in hell they were going to do with Machigi when he arrived, not so long from now. Move Siodi out and Machigi in, maybe, except that the chief lord of a whole district could not lodge outside the Bujavid without some inconvenience, not to mention loss of dignity, unless in his own premises.
Machigi’s arrangement was going to be a headache from the outset; and hope to God the promised aosi was large enough to decently accommodate Siodi-daja and Lord Machigi in sufficient propriety. If not—
If not, there had to be some sort of arrangement for Machigi aside from that.
The van pulled up on bumpy old brick cobbles at the front of an ordinary looking house of the district, in a lane only scarcely wide enough to admit one such vehicle—ordinary-looking, except that uniformed Guild instantly came down the steps to the curb, and Tano and Algini got out and exchanged signs with the guards, looking up and down the block.
Banichi and Jago got out, and he did, with dispatch. Their driver would wait in the van, and any other vehicle that needed to come down the street was simply out of luck. The restaurant catty-angled across the street would get a fair amount of foot traffic in another couple of hours…but distinguishing an alley from a thoroughfare in the Old City was sometimes difficult, and most deliveries came by hand truck. So they would just have to walk the extra block, that was all, cursing the while, perhaps, but there that van would sit.
The local guard led the way. He and his aishid climbed a modest flight of stairs, up to a modest old-fashioned hallway with elaborately carved doors and two Guildsmen standing waiting for them.
Up two more steps to the main hall. A young woman in civilian dress waited to open the first side door, and within the room, with two more bodyguards, the Maridi lady was evident by her seniority and her manner. One immediately thought: this is a respectable lady, old enough to be Lord Machigi’s mother. Machigi could guest here without scandal. That solved one important matter.
“Siodi-daja,” Bren said, pleased, and bowed. She bowed in turn.
“Nand’ paidhi. One is astonished to receive so distinguished a personal visit.”
“One again represents the aiji-dowager, Siodi-daja. One trusts you have found the premises acceptable. It is beyond difficult to find lodging in Shejidan in any season, but in the spring—”
“Very fine,” she said and added, with a little wry humor, “and we find it extremely safe.”
He rather liked the woman, for that little spark. At the invitation, he appointed himself a seat in the obvious place, in a little sitting group with a little low table and a dry arrangement, aside from her desk.
The windows on this second story were all old-style, with white lace curtains, and admitting an uncertain light. The furnishings had seen at least a century and had come with the house. The lady’s coat sparkled with silver thread in the light of two dim lamps—antique, and quiet, like the rest of the lighting. It might have been gloomy, but it seemed genteel and pleasantly old-fashioned instead.
Quickly then, there was tea, as they faced each other in a house mostly occupied by the Assassins’ Guild and poised on a hair trigger against any threat. One imagined a basement full of armament and surveillance gear; and one began to get the entire picture, that this house, with all its other rooms, was as safe as a bank. Machigi could truly lodge here in safety, give or take the exposure of a van ride to the train.
“And how is Lord Machigi?” That much business could politely be discussed over tea.
“Very well,” Siodi-daja said. “And the aiji-dowager?”
“Well, and on her way to Shejidan at this hour. As is Lord Geigi.”
“And my lord is likewise ready to proceed, at the dowager’s invitation and as her guest.”
“Which will come, indeed, and quite soon. One trusts he will stay here in comfort, and his conveyance to the Bujavid will be with guards you appoint.”
A nod. “Excellent, nandi. One is glad.”
“You have received the final form of the documents, I trust?”
“To our knowledge, the final form. They have been couriered to Tanaja, to my lord’s hand.”
“Excellent. I can then report everything in order. Is there any other thing the dowager may wish to know in advance?”
“I have had no information.”
“Indeed. We hope to have everything covered. —And how do you find the city?”
“Very large,” Siodi said with a pleasant, grandmotherly laugh. “Very land-bound. I have never been out of sight of the sea before.”
“We are very much in the heart of the West,” he said. “One does recommend the Bujavid Museum if you have leisure, your guard permitting, and if you extend your stay, which of course we hope you will do. It is a public area of the Bujavid and generally has excellent personal security and excellent exhibits. No one will trouble you or they will answer to the very proper Director, one assures you. There is also a textile museum somewhat across town and a beautiful public garden, the Kosa Madi. All of these places you may find enjoyable.”
The talk ran on pleasantly through a second cup of tea, quite, quite easy and free and increasingly cheerful. The lady was charming. And no fool. When they were past the opening courtesies, the lady said, “And are we to meet with the various Guilds in this place, nand’ paidhi?”
“You are indeed, nandi. I know the Merchants’ Guild is quite ready to meet with you, most likely in the Bujavid committee rooms, if you are so kind, and it has abundant questions and a generally positive outlook. Transportation and the Messengers have been deluging me with queries, and those two Guilds are likely to request meetings in their offices within the Bujavid—those two will be full of questions, a far harder set of questions than the Merchants’ Guild will ask, but the paidhi’s office and, I am sure, the aiji-dowager’s staff will support you with research and communications. The Merchants are quite impressed with the porcelain, which is on exhibit, let me add, in the foyer of the Bujavid, under the auspices of the museum director.”
“My lord will be pleased to hear it.”
“Indeed.” A nod. “It would ultimately be politic for you to meet with all the Guilds, usually in their premises. The Bujavid will offer facilities for larger gatherings, and will offer services for any social gathering you may choose to host here. Hosting all the Guilds in a social evening would be politic, let me say. They rather expect it, in due course, particularly as you open your offices to do business.”
That was one topic which the lady accepted with a clear understanding of the social intricacies—one saw the flicker of sharp intelligence in those gold eyes, the ability to estimate a situation. Machigi would not have sent a fool into this situation—by no means a fool, this lady, and likely her staff would be no fools, either.
“If my staff may assist yours in protocols in that regard,” he said, “they are certainly willing to do so. If you have any questions, staff may talk to staff.”
“One is gratified.”
“Let me be frank,” he said, with some confidence in the lady. “We wish to have the agreement signing before the legislature session begins, within the next few days. We are aware of the difficulties involved, and Lord Machigi has expressed reservations about his personal safety, comfort, and dignity. You are here to smooth the path, one is quite certain, to gather information and to look the situation over. We are determined t
hat Lord Machigi should not experience any uneasiness, not regarding the commitment of the aiji-dowager to exactly the course we have laid out, and not regarding the commitment of the East to further that agreement by specific actions. Lord Machigi will not be put in any uncomfortable position regarding relationships with the Guilds or on any other issue other than that we have already discussed. Your discussions may range into these territories, to your lord’s benefit, but they are not necessary to the agreement of association with the aiji-dowager. The agreement of association stands separate from all other issues. I am here officially to report to you that the aiji-dowager is on her way to Shejidan—I have done that—and unofficially that she wishes to meet with Lord Machigi and accomplish the signing before there can be any campaign organized against it. Within your establishment here, we are prepared to assure your lord’s safety and convenience. The dowager will, however, for publicity reasons, wish to have the signing in the Ivory Hall of the Bujavid lower floor.”
“I shall relay that information to my lord,” Siodi said with a little nod. “One is very gratified to hear it from your mouth, nand’ paidhi. In you, my lord has confidence. One begs you to maintain that confidence.”
“I have come to have a personal attachment to your lord. I would regard treacherous harm to him as a great and personal affront. I am personally committed to the prosperity of the Taisigin Marid. I believe general prosperity will come. I believe it is just. I believe it is right. I believe it is fair.”
A deeper nod. “One will most gladly convey that good sentiment, nand’ paidhi. My lord had warned me that the bright lights of Shejidan might alter a man’s thinking.”
“It does not alter mine, nandi, not in this matter.”
“Nor does proximity to Tabini-aiji?”
“Tabini-aiji is quietly watching the progress of this effort. He has some reservations, but he sees this in a favorable light, on its merits, and on his respect for his grandmother’s good efforts. He wishes your lord’s success in his venture with the aiji-dowager. He agrees that there were unfortunate choices made in the past. He shares many of the same concerns about the economy of the Marid as a past and future cause of war, and welcomes your lord’s agreement with his grandmother. He will lend his support to her ventures, and if your lord is the aiji-dowager’s associate, he will support your lord’s ventures in the process.”
That was a very carefully crafted paragraph, and he had not dropped a stitch of it. He was gratified to see it delivered to a woman who would not drop a stitch of it, either, in relaying it back to Machigi. Her face demonstrated just ever so slight relaxation, and she nodded a third time.
“Thank you, nandi. One is glad to hear so.”
“Please relay my respects to Lord Machigi and tell him that time is short to have this accomplished in good order and with a minimum of debate. Other communication will flow through the Guild, but the aiji-dowager wished me to pay this courtesy directly and to express her opinions as you have heard them.”
“Which is much appreciated, nand’ paidhi.”
It was not a long meeting. There was no second round of tea. Their relative ranks did not encourage it. But Bren emerged with an unexpected gift for the aiji-dowager: a thick portfolio, done up in courtly style, with seals and ribbons of varying houses, which represented the concurrence of various of Machigi’s lords, including, one was glad to see, the seals of the Isles and the southeast coast of the Marid.
There were notably no ribbons representing the Senji and the Dojisigi, not yet, nor could they be expected. Those two districts were being firmly sat upon by the Guild, who were not welcome guests, and neither one had its succession in order…their lords’ funerals had been quiet, underattended, so the report said, and there was as yet no mad scramble of various claimants to the aijinates involved. It was assumed Tiajo would become the figurehead for her father over the Dojisigi, but as yet Senji clan could not even find a claimant willing to stand in the target zone, and the Dojisigi, who ordinarily would have immediately advanced an opinion as to which Senji clansman should hold that seat, had been conspicuously silent.
Fear. A salutary fear prevailed in those districts.
All the North could ask was that neither clan should move to assassinate Machigi. And the Guild prevented that.
Possibly, too, which the representative had not said, but one suspected—possibly Machigi had taken his hint on how to use the Guild’s offices and was making quiet approaches to certain minor lords to the north, in Senji.
That was what the paidhi-aiji would suggest if he were standing at Machigi’s elbow. The paidhi-aiji had interfered in the Shadow Guild mop-up once, to plead that the child-aiji, Tiajo, not be a target. And he had asked himself more than once since, now that a spoiled child sat in authority over the other most powerful clan in the Marid, whether human sentiment had made a very, very serious mistake in that request.
He was thinking about that, all the drive back to the train station.
“Are you,” Jago asked him, once they were in the red train car, and completely secure from eavesdropping, “are you worried about the representative, Bren-ji?”
“Not about her. Not about Machigi,” he said, and shook off the doubts. “Your opinion, nadiin-ji?”
“The representative,” Banichi said, “seems quick to grasp things and is suitably reserved. She is anxious. But not fearful. She distrusts the Guild on a general level but is coming to terms with those immediately around her. This opinion we have from her bodyguard.”
“One has one’s own reservations. Nadiin, I have heard”—A moment for thought. “One has heard disturbing things from Tabini-aiji—which you know, regarding unease in the North. Before setting all this irrevocably in motion—before engaging the dowager with Lord Machigi in an agreement—is there anything I should know? Am I doing something wise—or otherwise?”
The train started into motion, a slow, slow movement, a vibration underfoot.
“One has inquired,” Algini said slowly. A pause. It was very quiet in the car. “If for some reason Tano and I are someday absent without explanation—”
Algini did not finish. He was, unheard of for Algini, visibly upset at that question.
“Gini-ji. Is there anything I can do?”
“If this should happen, Bren-ji,” Tano took up the statement, “rest assured our partners will advise you. And protect you.”
Now he was upset. Extremely. “Nadiin-ji. One is not willing to accept this. One is not willing to be protected when those persons I highly value, nadiin-ji, are put at risk! Is there anything you can tell me? Are you attempting to stand between me and a Guild action, nadiin-ji? Have I crossed a line, somewhere?”
Tano looked at Algini.
Algini said, “The Guild has been trusted for two hundred years. I have had representations made to me that, if they are carried through, will satisfy me. One begs pardon, Banichi.”
Banichi wore a very solemn expression. So did Jago.
“This visit to the representative, then,” Banichi said, “was a risk.”
“The guards near Machigi are not the problem,” Algini said.
“The guards near the aiji-dowager are not the problem,” Bren ventured to say. Unthinkable to him that there should be any breach of security under Cenedi’s watch. “Nor the aiji’s, one hopes.”
“No,” Algini said. “Specifically…” Algini got to his feet, walked a few paces across to the galley bar and used his communications for a moment, saying something Bren did not hear, but the others might have. Jago put out her arm a half second before the train began to slow.
It stopped. They sat dead still, with their train obstructing one of the two parallel tracks that ran up to the Bujavid’s most secure station.
And in that relative silence, with only the idling engine sound, but nothing from the wheels, Algini turned to look at all of them.
“Specifically, nandi, it is the Kadagidi.”
Murini’s clan, a Padi Valley clan, next-door nei
ghbors to Lord Tatiseigi and longtime collaborators with problem lords in the northern Marid—including Murini. It made a sudden, thoroughly unwelcome sense that if there was going to be a problem involving the Guild, the Marid, and a prospective peace—the Kadagidi, as old and as influential a clan as Tatiseigi’s Atageini, were very likely to have their fingers on it, no matter that the Kadagidi had distanced themselves from their own clansman, Murini, disowned him, repudiated his acts…
Would one not repudiate a failure?
“As—infiltrated, Gini-ji? Or infiltrating?”
Algini said, solemnly, “Bren-ji, if one were surer of that matter, or exactly how one relates to the other, one would have more confidence in a good many things. This—this, Bren-ji, is my opinion—that the last Kadagidi lord to have any authority in Kadagidi clan was Murini. And that after him, much as Lord Aseida claims to have opposed Murini inside Kadagidi clan, he is a liar, and he has been a liar from before Murini overthrew Tabini-aiji. This man argued with Murini on trifles. Oh, yes, he withstood Murini. He distanced himself. He did all these things. He is served by an aishid led by one Haikuti, who has never yet misstepped in terms of Guild regulations, who came to Aseida from the Guild hierarchy, as I came to you, but I am not sure who sent him.”
“Can you be clearer, Gini-ji?”
“Haikuti is, in fact, one of the Guild that I personally would not have trusted. He is now, in this matter in the Marid, at odds with his lord, with Aseida, in supporting Guild action and arguing for supporting Machigi; but one has observed that Haikuti also argued with Lord Aseida in his initial support of Murini and later supported Aseida in backing the return of the old Guildmaster.”
“You think it is a show?”
“One believes, Bren-ji, that we have been witness to the longest, most elaborate machimi play that ever took the stage, and I do not think the players are yet wearing their true colors.”